


A Lovebird’s Redemption

by ronnijade



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dark, Halloween, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-30 20:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21146369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronnijade/pseuds/ronnijade





	A Lovebird’s Redemption

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. 

Just like a ticking time-bomb, Billy Hargrove knew it was only a matter of time before he exploded into something catastrophic, the never-ending throes of life constantly shoving him closer and closer to the edge of destruction. 

He gasped for air, doubling over his father’s fist with a pained groan, the unforgiving punch having knocked the air out of him; he didn’t have time to recover before Neil pulled him up by the collar of his jacket and slammed him back against the wall. The shelves beside him rumbled from the sheer viciousness of his father’s actions, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. It was funny, how he wasn’t scared of anyone or anything, as if all of his fear was reserved for his dad — he took shit from nobody, but when it came to Neil, Billy felt helpless. Terrified. Exhausted. 

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. 

“What did we talk about?”   
The words rang in Billy’s ears, drowned out by the thoughts that consumed him. He couldn’t take this much longer. He wouldn’t take this much longer. He wasn’t the same little boy who could do nothing more than cower and cry and pray Neil would leave him alone.   
Billy leant his head back against the wall, watching Neil with a burning hatred that raged in his deep blue eyes. 

When Neil hit him again, steel-like knuckles pounding into his jaw, Billy stumbled and almost lost his footing, had his father not immediately ragged him back into place, shoving him back against the wall with a loud thud. A fiery hot pain seethed into his skull, the left side of his face throbbing. A single tear rolled down his cheek, but Billy made no attempt to wipe it away — he just stared again, eyes alight with something sinister.

“What did we talk about?!” 

“Respect, and responsibility.” his voice broke. He pursed his lips together, thinking. Contemplating. Regretting never not running away before it got to this point. His jaw hurt. His stomach hurt. Fuck, his heart hurt. 

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. 

“You listen to me now, and you listen real fuckin’ good. You’re going to call whatever whore you’re seeing tonight, and cancel your date. And then, you’re going to go find your sister, like the good, kind, respecting brother that you are. Ain’t that right, Billy?” 

Each word dripped with spite, venom tinging each one. That same venom seeped into him, making his whole body feel ablaze with electricity and animosity. If there was a perfect time to do it, it was now, when Susan and Max weren’t at home. Billy would never be made to feel like this again, by anyone, ever. Behind his steely blue eyes spoke one thousand words, only Neil didn’t care to hear them out. Stupid fucking Neil. He’d get what was coming to him. 

“Isn’t that right, Billy?!”

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

“Yes sir.” 

His words came out quieter than he intended them to, head clouded and heart racing at the thought of what he was about to do. Neil took a step back, and cocked his head, patronising and menacing. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” he insisted. Billy grit his teeth, jaw tightening, hands shaking. 

“Yes. Sir.” 

“Good.” Neil smirked, turning on the heel of his boots, carelessly headed out of Billy’s bedroom; little did he know he’d never make it past the doorway. Billy pushed himself away from the wall, movements hasty yet stiff and forced, for he knew if he didn’t make himself do the deed, he’d only continue to suffer at the hands of his father.   
Now it was his turn to suffer. 

“Hey, dad..?” Billy called out, snatching up the lamp that sat atop his bedside table. Neil turned around, quick, but not quick enough to see what he had coming to him. 

Boom. 

With as much strength as Billy could muster, he swung the lamp at him, the base of the heavy brass furnishing smacking him hard in the side of his head. Just like that, Neil fell to the floor like a sack of shit, blood having already began to trickle down from his temple. Billy didn’t allow him the chance to scramble up to his feet, even though he was pretty sure he couldn’t in his stunned state.   
He chucked the lamp aside and straddled the man beneath him, the man who’d made his life a living hell, and began what he knew was the end. He hit him once, a heavy handed thump to his nose, and boy did it feel good, to finally get his own back. He hit him again, and again, over and over, bawled up fists pounding into his dad’s face relentlessly with no cease. Eighteen years of pent up rage, of being treated like nothing more than shit on the bottom of Neil’s shoe, had led up to this. There was blood— so much blood— and after a while, that was all there was. Billy couldn’t even recognise the man sprawled out beneath him, nor did he notice at what point his body fell limp. Still, he kept punching him, arms aching and chest heaving, new splatters of crimson red spraying onto his face and his chest and his loosely unbuttoned shirt each time he landed a punch into the fleshy mess below him.   
“Fuck you!” he seethed, angry— furious— that he’d lost consciousness so soon. Billy stood to his feet on wobbly legs, but he didn’t stop there. He kicked him in the head at least three times, so hard he felt his skull cave in, cementing his father’s fate and ensuring there was no coming back from the brutal beating, and then finally, he cried. He cried because he was so happy, so relieved that it was all finally over, that he’d never have to face his tormentor another day of his life. 

Tousled, dirty blonde locks fell in loose ringlets, clinging to his bloodied forehead. Billy took a couple of steps back and propped himself down onto the end of his bed, snaking a trembling hand into the pocket of his jacket, and retrieved his smokes. That first drag of the cigarette felt like a new lease of life was being drawn into him, eyes fluttering shut as he revelled in the way the thick smoke burned his chest. 

He listened to the sound of the clock, trying to pace his breathing; five seconds in, five seconds out. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. 

Billy smiled.   
He was happy.


End file.
